


The Very Secret Thoughts of Clark Kent

by Viridian5



Category: Smallville
Genre: Crack Fic, First Time, Goth Clark, Humor, M/M, Teenage Rebellion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-11-13
Updated: 2002-11-13
Packaged: 2017-10-02 07:18:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viridian5/pseuds/Viridian5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a new, more honest Clark....</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Very Secret Thoughts of Clark Kent

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely a season one story.
> 
> The now defunct Goth!Lana's LiveJournal, which had inspired me to try Clark as a Goth, may have been brimming with bile and misanthropy, but no matter what I did Clark just wouldn't go that way. Therein lies the fun for me.
> 
> Thanks to Laura for the read-through. Thanks to Kasha, Livia, and Nico for supporting my insanity. There's a podfic version available [here](http://amplificathon.livejournal.com/1078262.html).

I just can't take it anymore, all the pressure to be normal, all of Mom and Dad telling me that I should try to blend in and not catch anybody's attention. I'm tired of it. Everybody sees this goofy, smiling Clark in his farmboy flannel and thinks it's me, but it's not.

I'm not going to lie about my pain or hide anymore.

Okay, I'll still be lying about and hiding the alien thing, but who wouldn't? We all used to watch _The X-Files_ when it was a good show.

So today's the first day of a new, realer Clark. I'm a freak, and now my outsides are going to show it. I'm going to become a Goth. Take that, world!

  


* * *

Life sucks. It sucks more than... some great big sucking thing. When I walked into the kitchen this morning, Dad gave me a great reaction, just totally paralyzed with shock, but Mom said, "Oh, honey, your eyeliner's...." Then she came over to me and smudged it a bit with her finger. Mom!

Still, it looked better afterwards.

School started out well, with Whitney saying that he never would have strung me up in a cornfield if he knew it would lead to this. Lana stared at me with wide eyes and looked more confused than usual. What did I ever see in her?

But Chloe and Pete just died laughing. Pete ragged on the leather pants and ripped-up shirt. At least the eye makeup just made him speechless. Chloe got even bitchier. She kept staring at my eyes and checking out my butt, though. I will never understand girls.

Still, it feels great getting all the oppression against me out in the open instead of pretending. People should stare! I'm an alien, darn it!

  


* * *

Lex likes the new me. So there. Even if he has been giving me some strange looks. But they're not bad strange looks. I think he understands.

I keep busting the laces of my leather pants when I'm around Lex. I have to stop doing that. It's getting ridiculous.

I think things would be better if I could get a tattoo.

  


* * *

Lana is dressed like a marshmallow Peep today, pink and fluffy. Ew. Once Chloe showed me that website with the scientists who did those tests on Peeps and found out that nothing can destroy Peep eyes, not even acid. I figure that Lana's eye makeup is like that. Which wouldn't be so bad if the shadow wasn't so _pink_. I wonder how long it takes her to remove her makeup at night.

Lana visits her parents' grave in the cemetery a lot. She's such a poser.

Did you know that Lana's parents died when she was three? Really! None of us knew. Thanks for dragging that out again, Lana, when _some people_ in the room might be the last survivor of their whole _race_.

I still feel guilty about the meteor fall, but not so much where Lana's concerned, because it seems like she'd have nothing to talk about at all if her parents hadn't died in it.

Wow, that was bitchy.

Go me!

Uhm, not that I'm going to ever say any of that to her.

  


* * *

Thinking about Lana's meteor rock necklace made me worry that maybe she's actually more Goth than I am after all, since for years she wore a part of the thing that had killed her parents as a decoration. It really bothered me. Even aside from the way the necklace itself made me sick.

Then I remembered that her Aunt Nell gave it to her to wear.

Which makes her Aunt Nell more Goth than I am.

I don't think I'm going to win this one.

  


* * *

Lex bought me new fishnets to replace the ones that got shredded when I saved him from that mutant fish. I didn't want to accept them, but Lex thought it would only be fair. But these are silk thigh highs and a garter belt instead of tights. Lex told me that he knows how the tights can sometimes tangle in your, um, important bits. Since I was taking the fishnets, I decided that I might as well take the garter belt too.

The straps feel so weird against my thighs.

  


* * *

I don't know what I ever saw in Lana. She used to be a _cheerleader_! She's not in touch with her inner darkness at all.

She, Chloe, and Pete think my new style is all just a fashion thing. They don't understand that I have a _philosophy_.

Lex understands. I've been spending more time with him lately. And he lets me borrow his corset when I want to. Hey, he even laces it up for me sometimes.

  


* * *

I think Lex really likes my new dog collar, because he spends a lot of time staring at it and licking his lips. I'd tell him that he could buy one himself at Hot Topic if I didn't know that he was rich and could probably get a designer dog collar.

He probably already owns one. So why is he staring at mine?

Maybe he can see that I'm not comfortable with it, that it feels kind of strange against my Adam's apple when I swallow. Maybe he'll stop staring when I get used to it.

I'm not certain if I want him to stop.

Darn, I busted the laces on another pair of leather pants.

  


* * *

I burned down the Fortress of Solitude _again_. It's a good thing Dad can't whip me, because I know he wants to. Misery is the smell of burnt hay and patchouli. I have to learn to keep my candles better. Darned... _damned_ candles.

Dad has threatened to stop paying me for doing my chores since all I do with the money is run super-speed to Metropolis to buy clothes he hates and things to burn the barn down with, but Mom told him that I have to be allowed to express myself. Dad argued that arson isn't self-expression. Being able to hear better than most people can be pretty convenient for me.

Lex would laugh if I told him that Mom's acceptance of what I'm doing takes a lot of the fun out of it, but I think he'd understand.

  


* * *

Lex took me to Metropolis for a midnight screening of _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_. It was so cool. I don't know how everybody knew I was a virgin, but they made me feel really welcome anyway. They even talked me into a little striptease. We're all freaks, but _we're_ wearing our differences on the outside and why can't people get that?

Lex kept giving me strange looks in the limo on the way home, and they only got stranger after I asked if I could massage his feet for him. Maybe he thought it was a weird request, but he was walking around in 5-inch platforms and I figured his feet could use some pampering.

I busted the laces on my pants again.

Dad caught me wandering in at 4 a.m. and blew up. Where was I and why was I out so late and Lex is a bad influence and dresses me like a tart (whatever that's supposed to mean) and I'm killing my mother, don't I know that? Like Mom didn't teach me how to apply eyeliner, because she felt that if I was going to go out looking like this I might as well be doing it right. But saying that would just bring the Wrath of Dad on Mom's head, so I fought back with a Dad-style platitude that you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar, then ran up the stairs at super-speed before he could get out the shotgun. Bullets still hurt sometimes.

  


* * *

I need to get rid of this dork look, so I have to get my hair cut. Lex offered me his family stylist, which seemed strange to me since he's bald but made sense once I remembered that his Dad has lots of hair. Good looking hair. And he wears a waistcoat really well. He has style.

And did I check out Lex's dad?

  


* * *

I've been experimenting with clove cigarettes lately. Okay, that sounds a lot kinkier than what I'm really doing. "Practicing" is a better word for it, because the whole point of smoking is that I want to look cool, so I decided not to make my first attempts in public.

Good thing too, because the first breath in felt very weird and wrong. I didn't choke--because I _don't_ choke--but I came close and probably had a really strange look on my face. I exhaled it out in a rush. Second breath was better, since I knew what to expect. I let the smoke swirl around, getting a kind of spicy hot feeling, through my lungs for a bit. It was... interesting, with a bit of a rush attached. I still awkwardly blew it out like a dork though. I'll get smoother with practice.

I like the cloves. They smell like incense, which I smell like anyway now, so Mom won't notice. She hates the stink of regular cigarettes, and so do I.

Dad would be pissed off if he found out. "Another way for our son to burn down the barn," he'd say. It's not my fault, though. I think that lots of people would be burning stuff down more often if they couldn't be hurt by fire, because it's pretty and hypnotic. I like the way it feels on my skin too, like a lot of warm, soft fingers gently stroking me. Or like lots of tongues licking me. Not that I've ever had lots of tongues licking me to compare it against.

I wonder what Lex will think of me smoking. He probably knows lots of people who smoke cloves. Then again, Lex probably knows people who shoot heroin into their eyeballs.

  


* * *

Lana's parents are still dead. Big surprise. At least they don't have to live in this hellhole of a small town. Of all the places my ship could have crashed, I had to end up in the creamed corn capital of the world?

Lana, your parents are still dead. Nobody sees you as a fairy princess but you. Jeez. Get off it already.

And she did this conversational riff again about how friendship can't survive secrets. Lex used to too, though he doesn't say anything like that as often lately. Between the two of them doing it, I've gone from getting a deep twinge of guilt at those words to being kind of blasé. Yeah, yeah, secrets, friendship, I'll tell Mom that you enjoyed the apple pies.

  


* * *

Dad doesn't understand my transformation. Big shock. He thinks it's just teen angst. He doesn't understand that I am the most alone person on this planet. Really and truly alone. I have no idea what will happen to me as I get older. My abilities change from week to week. Deciding to dress the way I do now and think the way I do now is me taking some control of my life.

Sometimes I wish I could be like one of Lex's designer water bottles: cool and blue and smooth and with Lex's mouth wrapped around me and, wow, did that comparison get away from me.

Well, Dad did say that if my wearing eyeliner meant I was gay, that I could tell him and he'd support me. Even if he had looked like he was swallowing something awful tasting as he said it.

  


* * *

Lex's dad walked in on us today, very rude. Still stylish though. Lex says that he's Satan. I tell him that a lot of times I don't like my dad either, but Lex says that his dad really is Satan.

Anyway, Lex's dad saw my dog collar, gave Lex a look, and then called me a pretty puppy. I didn't like it much.

Neither did Lex.

They did this thing where they fought without fighting. Really cool voices, lots of disdain, but I could tell that Lex was pissed and Lex's dad was amused and trying to score points or something. Neither of them would let me talk, which pissed _me_ off.

On his way out Lex's dad gave me a look and I busted the laces on my pants again. Maybe I should switch back to jeans for when I'm hanging around Luthors.

When I mentioned it to Lex he said that I shouldn't give his dad that kind of victory.

  


* * *

Mom told Dad that he should "let Clark have his little rebellion. It could be a lot worse." My "little" rebellion? Mom's not taking me seriously. I'll show her. It looks like I'll have try harder. What could I do?

I could stop doing my chores.

No, then they would either have to pay a team of field hands or we'd lose the farm. Or pay a team of field hands _and_ lose the farm. I can't do that.

I _can't_ get a tattoo or pierce something. I already go out without telling them where I'm really going. Mom doesn't mind Lex no matter how crazy Dad gets over the whole Luthor thing.

Who knew it would be so hard to be bad?

  


* * *

I can't wear my good stuff while I'm working on the farm or making deliveries--farm tools and fishnet especially don't mix--so I end up wearing black stretch jeans with one of my shirts that are _supposed_ to look worn out or stressed. For deliveries I can dress it up with eyeliner and my dog collar.

To my surprise, I get more women and men coming on to me during my rounds lately. So much for the vanilla tastes of America's small town heartland.

I get some of the world's worst come-on lines directed at me too. Mrs. Baker uses that "peaches" one on me _every_ time! Does she think I forget from week to week, or does she think that this week it'll work?

Today Mr. Luthor came out to meet me when I brought over the fruit and vegetables. Darn. I'd been trying to avoid him since that puppy comment he made. He looked me over in a way that reminded me of Dad checking out the cattle, and it made me self-conscious. I had my black T-shirt with the slashes in it on, the one I wash myself because I know Mom would sew them shut if she saw it.

"I should have known that Lex would be able to find something like you even in the middle of nowhere," Mr. Luthor said.

Some_thing_? And I'd been checking him out before!

He really wasn't that attractive. For one thing, he was too old. For another, he was an ass.

"I'm just making a delivery, sir, as usual," I answered as I pushed past him with the bushel.

"I'm sure you are," he purred.

I had to remember that I couldn't smack Lex's dad. Because he's Lex's dad, and because I'd probably send him into the next county.

I didn't answer. If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. It's scary how thoughts like that always have my dad's voice attached.

Mr. Luthor kept talking. "At first I thought you were exactly like all the others--" I wouldn't wonder how many others, "--but now I see that you're a bit different."

Uh-oh. "I'm just like anybody else, sir. Nothing different. I'm just doing the teenage rebellion thing."

He smiled. In a really scary, threatening way. "The very fact that Lex doesn't talk about you shows me that you matter to him."

"That's, uh, nice. I have other deliveries to make. Goodbye, Mr. Luthor." But he stared at me as I drove out. And I didn't get to see Lex at all that day.

  


* * *

After a lot of practice and one near tragedy in the barn, I decided to make my move. I had the experience and wouldn't look like such an idiot now. Lounging on the couch in Lex's office, I casually asked, "Mind if I smoke?"

Lex sounded amused and surprised, but not in a bad way. "I didn't know you smoked."

"I believe in trying new things."

"Then be my guest."

"Already am, Lex, but thanks." Oh yeah, I'm cool.

He smirked, then handed me an ashtray. Right, to make sure I didn't burn down the castle. "I'm sure your father is thrilled that you've found another way to try to burn down the barn."

"My dad is hard to thrill."

"I didn't need to know that."

"And I thought you were such a jaded man of the world."

"'Jaded'? Your vocabulary suggests that you've been spending more time with Chloe."

I lit up and took a deep breath of spicy smoke in. Casual. Cool. "'Jaded' is all mine. I have depths, Lex." I blew it out, feeling like a dragon.

I had Lex's total attention. Okay, I did usually anyway, but now it felt different. Hotter and more intense. I smoked some more, breathing in and out, sucking on the cigarette a bit. I felt the laces of my pants strain as I sat under the weight of his stare.

Yeah, I'd figured out what that was about. It took me a little while, but I got it. Now I wanted it.

I wanted more than a stare. "I know what I want, Lex. Try me."

He gave me a look that busted the laces completely, then he prowled over. It was a prowl, because nothing else could describe that intense, fluid walk. I couldn't walk like that on the best day of my life.

He stopped in front of me, standing between my slightly spread legs, staring down at me. "Legs _together_, Clark," he said, softly, and I didn't know why he'd want that--my legs sure didn't want that--but I did it anyway.

I understood when he sat on my lap, facing me, his every movement rubbing at my crotch. I'd never seen Lex from this close before, and I wanted to lick the scar on his lip. Though I'd have to put down and stub out my clove first, so I did that, then kissed him. His mouth felt soft, even with the scar. The last time I'd been mouth to mouth with him, I had too much on my mind--like saving his life--to notice texture or anything.

His head felt hard, smooth, and warm under my hand. When I felt a tug at my dog collar, I realized that he'd hooked a finger through the metal link you'd attach a leash to. He had me by the throat, and it made me harder just thinking about it.

A part of me knew that, realistically, I could get out of being pinned to the couch and held by the collar in seconds if I wanted to, but that part got drowned out by the parts that really, really liked this.

I didn't know when I'd get this again, so I took full advantage now. Lex had a really nice body under his expensive clothing. When I opened his fly and reached into his silky underwear, I got a bit of a surprise. Amazing what a difference hair made for feel. And Lex growled softly, which made me thrust up against him.

"The laces on those damned pants have already snapped. Very convenient," Lex purred as he reached in....

Oh.... Feels too good. "Uh, yeah. Yeah. Lex... I'm going to...."

I came all over him for what seemed like forever. At least I didn't lose my mind enough to forget that I better not spaz out enough to squeeze Lex as I did it. He'd never forgive me if I broke it off. Then again, he'd probably be dead too, which he might prefer to having no dick anyway.

Cool. Yeah, that's you, Hair-trigger Kent. I could feel my cheeks blazing.

But Lex just smiled. "I'll take that as a compliment."

"I made a mess of--"

"Trust me, if anyone knows how to get stains out of leather and good fabric, it would be me."

Well, yeah. And I still had my hand in his pants. Maybe I could make it up to him a bit. Oh, he liked it when I gripped and pulled harder. Lex managed to look elegant even while he was moaning and pushing himself deeper into my fist. I had to get him to teach me that. When he came all over me, I felt a lot better. This was fair.

Besides, I'd just had sex, and now I had Lex draped on me. Why wouldn't I feel good?

"I never thought you'd make a move," Lex said.

"What do you mean?"

"You've been teasing me for the last four weeks without letting me know how serious you were. When you went with the cigarette move...."

He had to be kidding me. "Lex, I was just smoking. And for the last four weeks I've just been trying out a new way of dressing and looking at things."

"That wasn't flirting?"

"Uh, when I _try_ to flirt, I end up looking like a big dork. Sorry."

"Really."

"Besides, I figure that you wouldn't respect someone who totally changed the way he looked just in some effort to impress you."

"You're going to kill me, Clark."

"I don't think so. Why would I want to throw away all the work I've already put into saving your life?"

"You're evil."

I loved his smile. I might go off after three seconds, but at least I could put that smile on his face.

"No, that's your dad. Hey, Lex, can we have some more sex soon?"

  


* * *

Eventually I wore Lex out--heh--and had to go home. "I can't walk in with my clothes looking like this."

Lex had a purple silk robe on now. It flowed around him in distracting ways when he moved. "Follow me."

He pulled a neatly folded flannel shirt and pair of blue jeans out of his closet. They smelled like the stuff he used to clean his own clothes. I gave him a look.

Lex didn't blush. Quite. "You stayed over that night to guard against that kid who could spit fire and had decided that if he could kill me, everything would be better. You left these behind the next morning."

"That was two months ago. You could have given them back."

That was almost a blush. "Yes, I could have."

I loved it that Lex was a dork too.

I put the shirt and jeans on but kept my dog collar and buckle-up black leather boots and redid my eyeliner. It looked... interesting. From the look on Lex's face, he liked it too.

  


* * *

Dad looked happy to see me until he got a closer look. Did I have "I had sex three times" written on my forehead? Oh, wait, he was looking at my dog collar. Heh. He must have thought I'd given up on my new style.

Just because I was in a mood for mischief, I said, "I have to go upstairs to change into something else."

Dad's face fell further. As I went up the stairs, I head him yell after me, "Clark, where did _these_ clothes come from?"

Okay, it just took him a while. "Lex had them," I yelled back.

I really was lucky that the shotgun can't hurt me and Dad knows it.

  


* * *

Looking at my part-Goth self in the mirror, I had to say that I liked it. Maybe I could mix and match depending on my mood. Lex seemed to be into me either way.

And it would really mess with people's heads.

 

 

### End


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